


Too Much Grian

by MizzenMinecart



Category: Hermitcraft, Minecraft (Video Game), The Kingdom of Valor
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grian Family, Brief Moments of Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, General Trigger Warning, Implied Sexual Content, Kingdom of Valor is a trigger warning in itself, Past Rape/Non-con, Poultry Man has self-esteem issues, Poultry Man is NOT Grian!!!, Robo is a horny teen, Tags will be added, Unplanned Pregnancy, takes place in Hermitcraft 6, you can read this without watching the Kingdom of Valor btw since it's hermitcraft centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22385386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizzenMinecart/pseuds/MizzenMinecart
Summary: Sherlock Grian and Poultry Man announce a wedding on Hermitcraft. Because of this, Sherlock decides to invite his extended family, which includes the weird cousin nobody likes.
Relationships: Ariana Griande & Mumbo Jumbo, Evil Xisuma & Grian (The Kingdom of Valor), Sherlock Grian/Poultry Man, The Grian Clan, Welsknight & NPG & Robot Grian
Comments: 46
Kudos: 99





	1. I CHIME IN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: "Batchelor" Party

When Sally died..." Poultry Man choked out through his tears. "... and I had the label 'widower' stapled to my name, I never thought I could love again. Yet..."

"... here we are," Sherlock Grian finished. He knelt on one knee with a diamond in hand. The winds on top of the Statue of Hermity was a quiet breeze. Poultry Man's cape and Sherlock's scarf flapped in the wind. "I guess I should finally say it..." Sherlock took a deep breath. "Poultry Man, would you _egg_ -cept my marriage proposal?"

* * *

The day of the wedding was hectic. 10 hermits came. Xisuma, Wels, Doc, Joe, Cleo, Mumbo, Iskall, Stress, Impulse, and of course, Grian. The celebration had been set up in the 1.14 area in the open field near the Area 77 shenanigans and New New Hermitville. There was a large oak wooden platform for the dancing and dining area. In the back was a concrete white stage with a flowering arch almost resembling an egg. Of course.

Everyone pitched in. Grian and Stress helped with the final touches on the building. Xisuma and Wels helped set the large dining tables. Joe handled planning. The rest helped decorate the place to be as flourishing as possible.

Sherlock ran his fingers through his hair. "Does my hair look okay? Be honest. I look like a mess, right? It looks like there's an ink sac on my head, right?" Sherlock asked, looking in a handheld mirror.

Joe snatched the mirror out of Sherlock's hand and placed it on the dining table. "You've been doing your hair for an hour. You look fine."

"Usually I'm wearing my purple scarf. When people look at me, they see my purple scarf first and nothing else. Now that I'm without my purple scarf, people will look at my hair first! And then judge me upon that," Sherlock said.

"Everyone who's coming knows who you are, Sherlock," Joe said.

"No they don't!" Sherlock argued. "I've never met my nephews and-" just as Sherlock was about to finish his sentence, a pink limo spawned out of nowhere.

"Ack! They're here!" Sherlock screamed.

"Who's here?" Wels asked. "Who's that?"

Grian rocketed onto the platform, crash landing. "She's here! I can't wait to show her around!"

"WHO'S HERE?!" Wels repeated, louder. Attracting the attention of multiple hermits in the area.

Grian rushed to the limo. He desperately waited for the door to open. When the door opened, steam came flooding out of the limo. A strawberry blonde woman stepped out, wearing a pink and white off-shoulder crop top and long pink skirt. Immediately, Grian tackled her in a hug.

"ARIANAAAA!!!" Grian squealed. The two laughed.

"How's my favorite younger brother?" Ariana said in a smirk.

"I HEARD THAT!" Sherlock said, running over.

Grian pulled away. "Are they here? They didn't mess up your limo, didn't they?"

Ariana shook her head. "Robo, NPC!" Ariana called.

A metal-skinned, strawberry blond, red-eyed robot came out of the limo, holding a baby leash. The baby leash was attached to the backpack worn by a short, chubby little boy holding spruce planks.

"Human Grian," Robot Grian greeted. "It's been 2 years, 8 months, 5 days, 7 hours, 8 minutes, 2 seconds since you've taken me out of the basement. I demand to know who is this female."

"Robo, this is your Aunt, Ariana," Grian said. "Have you been nice to her?"

"No."

Grian was about to open his mouth to say something when NPC Grian came flying into his face. The baby leash broke with a snap. Grian grabbed the smaller boy and held him still. Grian chuckled as he watched NPG struggle in his grasp. "Well jokes on you, NPG, I can fly as well!"

"Uh...Hi?" Sherlock awkwardly said, Poultry Man by his side. The two held hands.

Ariana brought Sherlock into a hearty hug, congratulating him on his marriage. Being the older one, and have gotten married and remarried over 3 times at this point, Ariana gave wise advice to the young newlywed detective and his half-chicken husband. Grian was busy trying to keep NPG and Robo under control. Meanwhile, the rest of the hermits stood in shock, watching the scene unfold.

The male hermits practically dropped their jaws. Grian, the bastardly hermit himself, was related to one of the hottest chicks in the music industry?! Their eyes were glued to the woman as she walked towards the wedding area. 

Doc kept his composure. "Jeez... how many cam accounts does Grian have?" Doc scoffed.

"Doc, there's no cam accounts online," X slowly said as he finished preparing the dinner table.

"Wait, how-"

Mumbo smirked. "Grian and his magic."

"What the everloving mothershit self-insert roleplay is going on right now?" Doc asked.

"Hey! Watch your language. I'm recording," Mumbo said.

"You're really recording this?" Doc said.

"Yes. Because it's what makes Grian happy. He worked hard for this event and we should all act like we're having fun, no matter how bonkers it is," Mumbo said. Murmurs of agreement circled through the crowd. "And also-"

"RUSTICCCCCCCCC!!!!!!!" NPG screeched, slipping out of Grian's grasp and into the table Wels and Xisuma spent 30 minutes preparing, ultimately ruining it.

"RUSTIC?" Wels repeated.

"RUSTIC!" NPG yelled.

"MEDIEVAL!" Wels yelled.

"RUSTIC!!"

"MEDIEVAL!!"

"RUSTIC!!!"

"MEDIEVAL!!!"

Wels and NPG took off in the direction of the medieval district. Wels traveling with his elytra and NPG following behind, flying like a ragdoll in a hurricane.

"But what about the table?!" Xisuma called, but Wels was already too far to hear. He had to fix the table himself.

Doc approached the family. "You're all... related?"

Grian nodded. "I'm the middle child. Ariana is my big sister and Sherlock is my brother."

"What about..." Doc pointed to Robot Grian, who was in the middle of pickpocketing Joe. "...that thing and the other one who flew away with Wels?"

"My non-biological children," Grian said. "The one over there is Robot Grian and the one who kept on screaming about rustic houses is NPC Grian, or NPG."

"Wow..." Cleo, who was eavesdropping, commented.

"You're surprised? I thought it was obvious. We all look basically the same and all share the same last name."

"What's that last name?" Joe asked, still not realizing he had been pickpocketed.

"Grian."

"Oh," Doc said.

"If your last name is Grian, Grian, what's your first name then, huh?" Cleo asked.

"Charlie."

"Oh."

"I prefer to go by my last name," Grian said. "Formal reasons and stuff."

Grian left the conversation to help Xisuma in cleaning the tables. Although it was hard adjusting to the sudden family, the hermits went on with the wedding. Joe eventually realized he had been pickpocketed and basically tore the entire reception area apart.

Meanwhile, Robot Grian slipped into the Industrial District and was hitting on an automatic super-smelter by showing off his stolen wealth. Sadly, Robo would be rejected. After being dumped by his haughty ex, the microwave, the young robot was starting to wonder if he could ever find love.

Before the wedding ceremony was a potluck feast. Ariana brought deviled eggs, Doc brought omelets, Iskall brought breaded eggs, Xisuma brought egg drop soup, Impulse brought boiled eggs, Wels brought scrambled eggs, and Mumbo brought barbecue pulled pork.

As everyone dined, Doc stood on a table. He was wearing his Doc Docson suit. He clanged a fork against a wine glass, getting the attention of everyone. "Good evening, everyone! I'd like to make a speech." Doc gestured to Sherlock. "Thank you, Sherlock, for being an amazing detective. You've made quite a name for yourself on the server. Hermitcraft welcomes you. Now, give it up to the other best man, Grian!"

Grian nodded as applause filled his ears. "A toast to the grooms! To the best superhero on the server, Poultry Man!"

A few murmurs of disagreement came from the hermits. Grian frowned. "To whoever said that: I will hunt you down."

The night continued. Music began blasting. Sherlock and Poultry Man dominated the dancing space with their heavily choreographed performance. Poultry Man's flying abilities surely helped to have some breathtaking moments.

Mumbo, like always, stood alone in the corner. He munched on the many egg dishes. Until he heard a voice.

"Mumbo?!" screamed a female voice, trying to be heard over the blasting speakers.

Mumbo turned around was greeted with Ariana Griande. Mumbo smiled in the most professional way he can, despite his mustache most likely being full of crumbs. "Yes, that's me."

Ariana smiled back. "My brother has said great things about you! I remember the time he commissioned me to write a song about you."

"Oh yeah! I remember that too."

Ariana placed a tender hand on Mumbo's chest, rubbing the seams of his suit. "Despite writing a song about you, I don't think we've ever met. Let alone talked."

They locked eyes. They exchanged a few words. Then, they disappeared for the rest of the night.

At some point, Grian noticed the two missing. But all his attention was occupied by tearing the entire server apart trying to find Robo and NPG before the wedding ceremony. Robo was found with Mumbo's witch farm trying to take the behemoth to bed. NPG was found in the medieval district, building rustic houses with Wels. Wels pinkie promised to Grian that he'd take care of NPG for the night. Grian agreed and headed back to the 1.14 area with Robo just in time for the processional.

Ren took the role of the flower girl. But instead of flowers, they were eggs. Grian walked Poultry Man down the aisle. Doc walked Sherlock down the aisle.

Joe took the role of the cleric. After the two exchanged short vows, he spoke. "Do you, Sherlock H. Grian, take Poultry Man as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Sherlock said.

"And do you, Poultry Man (albeit we don't know your birth name) take Sherlock Grian as your lawfully wedded husband?" Joe asked.

"I do," Poultry Man said.

"Speak now or forever hold your-"

A loud crash was heard from the end of the aisle. Smoke filled the seating area. The message ".... joined the game" appeared in the sky, but the smoke was too thick to make out who.

"Why do I hear boss music?" Ren asked.

From the coughing, a familiar British voice rose. "Oh, you thought you could forget about me? You thought that the break up you and Taurtis had with Sam would leave me in the dust? You thought that my series would be buried in people's recommendations because of demonetization? Think again."

Grian stifled a cough. "Sam? I haven't heard that name since my high school days," Grian murmured. His eyes widened with realization. "No... it can't be! I thought you were removed from the Grian canon!"

"Oh ho ho! But I'm not! Nice server you have here, cousin," said the wizard, Grian, from _The Kingdom of Valor._

* * *


	2. WITH A HAVEN'T YOU

Grian's muscles tensed. He stood in a fighting stance, ready to pounce. The wizard wore a thick dark red robe with golden edges. Thanks to the slight red color of it, nobody could notice the dried bloodstains from his past adventures. The wizard hoisted his staff. The sturdy stick curled around a gleaming purple ball. It glowed against the starry night. 

The wizard smirked. "Since there's another member of the family here who likes to be addressed by his clan name, please call me Valor. My home kingdom which I have a love-hate relationship with..." Valor said. 

"Grian? The one from the Kingdom of Valor?" Grian asked. 

Xisuma whispered into Grian's ear: "What's the Kingdom of Valor?" 

Valor tsk'd. "A horrible kingdom run by an unfair crippled king and his bitchass son," Valor said. He murmured a string of curse words under his breath talking about Ralph the prince. 

The hermits shifted in their seats. 

"What's going on? Why is he like this?" Xisuma whispered to Grian.

"Only got one thing to say: Rape jokes didn't last long before the adpocalypse," Grian said. A pang of cringe pierced through his heart. Regret, regret, regret. He grit his teeth and stared at the ground. "This Grian is pretty messed up in the head because of the shit that happened to him."

Valor took a long sniff of the air. "Do I smell... RAT?!" he screamed. 

Everyone eyed Ren, who was cowering behind a wedding chair. Inside him was Tomato Yoshi, meditating for his goddamn life. 

"Oh yeah," Grian whispered to X. "He also wants to commit rat genocide for reasons I don't want to get into right now." 

Sherlock stood up and cautiously approached the wizard, taking each step slow and steady. "Grian! I can't believe you came. H-How'd you find the server?"

Valor shrugged. "Killed a wizard with some moderate hacking skills in a wizard duel. He was just some 12 year old bloke who had nothing better to do with his life." 

"Thanks for coming?" Sherlock added.

Valor pouted. "How could you approve of this? The Grian bloodline should be pure. There's no room for a low-class superhero like the chicken over there!"

Sherlock took Poultry Man's hand. "You think we care about your opinion?" Sherlock spat.

"Well, you will now," Valor said, showing off his magical staff. 

"Hey..." Doc interjected. He looked behind the wizard. "What's that hole in the back of your robe-"

Before Doc could finish, Valor blasted a laser through his forehead. Doc disappeared into a puff of smoke, his items falling to the ground. Valor let out a long, maniac laugh. But then stopped. "Wait, why aren't you all running?" he asked the stunned hermits. 

X smirked, but nobody could tell since he was wearing his helmet. "In this world, people respawn."

Valor's eyes widened. "I wasn't aware that was something a person could do. But that doesn't matter. I'm... evolving!"

The hermits gawked at the red particles that swirled around the wizard. He let out a menacing smile. The particles led to the purple ball in his staff, swirling into a deep shade of magenta.

"I've learned redstone! Aw sweet!" Valor exclaimed.

And that's when the hermits knew they were fucked. 

Xisuma crouched behind a wedding bench. He had wired his admin powers into the screen of his helmet. Keeping his nervous hands from shaking, he slowly typed in a command. 

Just as he was about to press the enter button, he paused. The command read "/Ban Grian". Obviously this would ban builder-roleplayer-red-jumper Grian. But would it even affect the other Grians? Was it even worth the risk?

"I'm not here to cause trouble, I swear," Valor said. "Like- I've never even met Sherlock in person before. I was here to see how the Grian fam was doing since I've been away. But I see you have bigger problems on the server." He eyed Ren, whose ears were pressed down in fear. "But never fear! I am here to spread justice across the lands I travel. First was Valor, next is Hermitcraft!" 

Doc, freshly respawned, bonked the back of Valor's head with a brick. Too consumed in his own villain speech, Valor fell to the ground, unconscious. 

"RUN, REN, RUN!" Doc shouted. "HIDE WHILE YOU CAN! THIS DUDE IS CRAZY!"

Without hesitation, Ren dashed to the nearest nether portal. 

Grian approached his cousin's body. Blood was spewing out of his cousin's mouth and nose. Eyes were shut. But before Grian got a good minute to fully examine, Doc brought his trident down onto Valor's skull, killing the wizard. His body (and staff) poofed into a puff of smoke. 

Unknown to anyone, Sherlock was consoling Poultry Man a few meters away from the commotion. It wasn't unusual for Poultry Man to feel this way when another superhero appears on the server. But Sherlock was always there to remind him that he was the best. 

Grian turned to Xisuma. "How long will he take to respawn?" Grian asked.

Xisuma shrugged. "Hours to days to months. At least, that's what I've learned from Evil X," Xisuma said. 

The wedding was canceled and the hermits went on with their day. Albeit, on the edge. Ren was nowhere to be found. Ariana, NPG, and Robo had overstayed their welcome, but the hermits decided that it would be better for them to stay in case the Valorian Grian comes back. 

* * *

Welsknight kept his promise and babysat NPG and Robo for as long as he needed to. The three stayed in a humble rustic inn in the new Medieval district village; appropriately named "Rusticville." They spent their time building, playing board games, and making a venn diagram comparing and contrasting the rustic and medieval build styles. 

The next morning during sunrise, Grian flew to Mumbo's base to get Ariana. She said that she was in the Mumball, the ridiculous Bumbo Balloni that Iskall made a while back. Grian gently landed on top of the ball and mined under him. 

Only to fall onto the floor of the ball face-first. Ariana, who was sitting on Mumbo's bed, burst into laughter. 

"Uh.. Hi," Grian said, palming his sore face. "I came here cause me, you, and Sherlock need to talk about..."

"Him?" Ariana asked. "The wizard guy? Mumbo's told me about what happened during the wedding last night."

"He also goes by his last name, so he told us to call him Valor. Also, where is Mumbo?" Grian asked. 

"He's still around here, somewhere." Ariana rose from the bed, which has become disheveled from what had occurred the night before. She was wearing her casual clothes. A red turtleneck with a boob window, grey pajama pants, and fluffy white socks. 

Grian took out a communicator and typed in chat 'Mumbo, come to the Mumball. We need to talk about the stuff last night'

Faster than light, Mumbo crashed into the Mumball. He jumped through the hole Grian made and landed splat onto the floor. The redstoner's usually-kempt hair was a mess, his mustache hadn't been groomed, his tuxedo was unbuttoned, his collar was popped, and there were heavy bags under his eyes. His entire face was red as he looked to Grian with scared eyes. 

"We need to talk about my cousin and his new... powers," Grian said, not batting an eye at Mumbo. "So, you heard about what happened last night, right?"

Mumbo relaxed, exhaling and letting his shoulders fall. _Thank goodness_. "Yeah. Some wizard related to you appeared and-"

"The way wizards from the Kingdom of Valor work is that in order to achieve new powers and advance skill, you must kill other wizards in wizard duels. My cousin killed Doc, which caused my cousin to acquire Doc's redstone skills. So I wonder, Mumbo, how dangerous can Doc's redstone abilities be if they were to be used for violence...?"

Mumbo snapped awake. His eyes widened. "Very dangerous. Extremely dangerous. Ludicicriously dangerous." 

Grian should've saw it coming; he'd been in the Prank War for God's sake! But still, Ariana and Grian exchanged worried looks. To hear the words from someone who actually knows a bit about redstone sent shivers down their spine. 


	3. PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF CLOSING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: The third section (each section is separated by hard rule) goes into detail about Valor's (canon) rape. Skipping the section it won't affect the story too much.

Time was nothing and reality was an illusion. Or at least, that's what it appeared to Valor as he floated in the endless void with nothing but his staff clenched in his hand. 

Until someone shook him by his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance. The void was still there, but there was warmth. In front of him was a person wearing a grey helmet with a red-tinted glass only revealing his eyes. 

"Sup," the unfamiliar person said in a deep voice.

"Where are we?" asked Valor. Valor went to turn around, but Evil X held him sturdy on the shoulders.

"The void," Evil X said. "Those derpheads banned you, too?"

"I've been banned? How does that work?" Valor asked, jerking his body to swim in the abyss. Evil X held him back.

"Not very wise to turn around all willy nilly. You'd probably get nauseous," Evil Xisuma said. "My name's Evil Xisuma. Hold me still while I take off my helmet."

Valor held Evil X by his waist, clenching his staff between his legs to keep it from floating away. Valor felt the muscles under EX's spandex. EX took off his helmet to reveal that he looked exactly like that Xisumavoid fella but with a very long mullet. 

"Wanna wreck havoc on Hermitcraft?" EX asked.

"Oh fuck yeah." 

* * *

It was lunch. Wels plopped two bowls of mouthwatering mushroom stew on the spruce wooden table. The delicious scent filled the cabin's dining room. But alas, Robo was unable to smell. And NPG lost his nose privileges years ago. 

Wels went back to the counter to bring his own bowl of stew. The knight looked at the two Grians, who were barely touching their food. "Not hungry?" he asked, dipping his spoon into his stew. 

NPG slumped in his wooden chair. "I'm worried about Dad..." he muttered.

"Human Grian is not our 'Dad.' He is our creator," Robo said. He turned to Wels. "The 'hermits' appear to be worried."

Wels nodded. "We're all a little on the edge, but I'm sure the others have the situation under control. Besides, look how much progress we've had on Rusticville!"

"I don't like surviving," Robo said. "When Human Grian created me, he made me play Buildbattle. I thought that was all to building. I didn't know you had to collect blocks. It's quite disappointing."

Wels was about to take another slurp of the stew when he heard a familiar hiss. Instinctively, Wels jumped out of his seat and drew his sword. Until he realized there was no creeper. If there was no creeper, then there had to be TNT nearby.

With only a second to act, Wels leaped to Robo and NPG. Grabbing both of them and shoving them under his body. The explosion was deafening. Planks of wood came smashing into the back of Wels' armor. Wels held onto the floorboards of the cabin with all his might. NPG shut his eyes. Robo could only watch, fascinated by this new sensation of fear.

The explosions stopped. Wels got off of the Grians and looked around. The entire cabin was destroyed.

"It's him. The wizard fella," Wels said. "It must."

"What am I? Chopped liver?" a deep voice said. Wels turned around and was greeted with EX standing beside Valor. 

"Dangit," Wels said. "We only made this house yesterday!" 

"Wow! I sure love ruining the hard work of innocent Hermits! Muhahahahaha!" EX cackled.

Valor knelt down to pick up some surviving redstone. Dust that he could fit into a pouch, a repeater, a torch, etc.. "This stuff doesn't grow on trees, y'know." Odd silence as Valor scavenged for redstone. Unbeknownst to anyone, NPG was at his limit. That boy gon' snap. 

Suddenly, NPG came soaring into Valor's face. Latching onto him and refusing to let go. Valor hopped around, trying to pry his first cousin once removed off his face. EX tried as well. Holding onto NPG's waist and trying to pull him apart from Valor. NPG began scratching and biting at Valor's precious face at superhuman speeds. Valor could only scream. Once NPG was done, he went for EX's legs.

"Is that a fucking gremlin?!" EX yelped as he tried shaking NPG off his legs. It didn't work. In a flash, EX's pants were torn through. In a blink, he was left sore and covered in bruises. EX collapsed to the ground. 

Wels and Robo could only watch in horror. 

"DESTROY RUSTIC HOUSE I DESTROY YOU" NPG said. 

While NPG was beating up EX, Valor had crawled his way to his staff (which he put aside to keep it safe from the explosion). The wizard cast a spell. In a poof, EX and Valor were gone. 

Robo turned to Wels. "You should've killed them with your weapons when you had the chance," Robo said.

"Yes..." Wels said, pissed. "I know that."

Wels quickly typed into chat: "EMERGENCY: VALOR AND EVIL XISUMA ARE ON THE LOOSE!"

* * *

Valor and EX were teleported to somewhere deep in the woods, far from any hermits. They quickly gathered resources and set up a mini-camp for the night. 

"So, Valor, what else do you want to do?" EX asked.

A sly smile grew on Valor's face. "That was just a test. I'm planning on doing something much bigger. Much better."

EX yawned. He laid on the grass, staring at the night sky. The warmth of the fireplace was like a big hug. "Valor, can you read me a bedtime story?" EX asked. 

Valor smiled. "Anyday! The Kingdom of a Valor is a land of plentiful tales." Valor sat beside EX's head. 

He cleared his throat."Once upon a time, there were three friends. One was the leader, named Sam. One was a ninja, named Taurtis. And one was a wizard, named Grian. Grian was always the runt of the group. One day, the three, along with a beautiful woman named Guarden, got kidnapped by a rat person. They tried to use Guarden to seduce the rat person to escape, but it turned out that the rat person was gay. And so Sam and Taurtis offered Grian, who was already in the middle of a suicidal breakdown. This was because a couple of days ago, to show peace, Sam and Taurtis had given Grian to the Queen of Vikings to play with for a whole night. The rat person cheerfully took Grian. Now, all Grian could remember was screaming as all 4 of his limbs were restrained by chains. Screaming and crying as the rat inserted his 7-inch rat penis inside Grian, dry. Screaming and praying, but all Grian got in return were the echos of Sam and Taurtis laughing their asses off in the other room." 

(A/N: None of that was an exaggeration) 

Valor took a breath, then continued.

"But instead of staying with his friends and continuing the series, Grian went back to his cell and killed them! Sam first, since he was the stronger of the two. Grian would stab his staff through Sam's heart as the final blow. Then, Grian would slam Taurtis' head into the stone wall until his head barely resembled human. Then, Grian would escape and marry Guarden and live happily ever after. The end."

EX stared with amazement. "Woah... That was so beautiful! Can you tell me more?" 

Laying beside EX, Valor replied "No." 

"Don't worry, Valor. We'll find Ren. Sleep tight," EX murmured before he drifted asleep.


	4. A GODDAMN DOOR

It was a rainy night. Crackles of thunder could be heard from outside the Poultrycave, above the clucks of chickens. Sherlock snored peacefully beside Poultry Man. But Poultry Man couldn't sleep a wink. 

His mind kept replaying the moment 2 days prior. "A low-class superhero..." Valor had called Poultry Man. Poultry Man gritted his teeth and grasped tighter on his blanket. He knew the Grians were a noble family, but exactly HOW high were the standards of marrying into the family? 

Suddenly, a blast of light came from the computer, startling the man. Poultry Man popped out of bed and lumbered his way towards the large screen.

On the screen was a large egg. The Poultry-signal! 

"Dear Poultry Man, there has been a disturbance in the modern district. Valor and Evil Xisuma have been spotted vandalizing houses and wrecking property. -GoodTimesWithScar, who is a safe distance away from them, for now..."

Despite how sleep-deprived he was, this was his only chance to fight Valor. Poultry Man looked over his shoulder at his sleeping husband, who, if awake, would most likely disapprove of what Poultry Man was about to do. 

Poultry Man sighed. He slipped on his feathery mask and flew out of the Poultrycave, trying to be as quiet as possible.

* * *

The superhero perched on a tree branch, watching EX from afar. Valor was nowhere to be found. But Scar was right, they were vandalizing and wrecking property. Graffiting "Xisuma sucks" and "Pro-furry is pro-beastality" all over the modern garages and driveways. EX snickered to himself as he did it.

From around the corner came Valor with a smug smile on his face. "It's done, EX,” he proclaimed.

EX cackled. "Nice! Have you tested it yet?"

"Hell no! There's too much TNT to waste on a test. Money doesn't grow on trees, y'know," Valor said. 

“But you’re stealing the TNT,” EX said.

In the corner of Poultry Man's eyes, he saw a figure move in the shadows. From the silhouette, he could tell it was Scar.

"Hey!" EX yelped. "That guy's been watching us! Get him!"

Valor chased after Scar into the woods. Poultry Man swung through the branches, keeping his eyes on Valor and Scar. Just as Valor was about to grab Scar, Poultry Man slid through the trees and tackled him to the ground. Pushing Poultry Man off him, Valor slapped Poultry Man's face and punched him in the stomach. As his head hit the ground, he could see Scar running away. At least Scar was okay. 

Valor stood over Poultry Man, staff gripped in his hand. "Nobody's awake. No one will hear you scream," Valor muttered with a smile. Poultry Man's head was a daze. He was on the brink of passing out. 

Until he saw a pink figure dropkick Valor from the side. The man, a little shorter than Valor, wore a pink mask and a pink spandex suit with a "W" on his chest. With that shiny glimpse of hope, Poultry Man regained his composure. 

Valor thrusted his staff into Worm Man's side, ripping his spandex. Worm Man kicked him in the shins. And from behind, Poultry Man elbowed Valor's skull. Valor casted a spell at Worm Man, which was essentially a splash potion of poison. Worm Man staggered backwards, coughing and gagging, gripping his side.

Poultry Man brought Valor into a headlock. The wizard scratched at Poultry Man’s arms until they bled. Valor’s beloved staff was just out of reach. Seeing the wizard struggle brought a smile to Poultry Man. He applied more pressure against Valor’s neck, choking him. 

"Die, villain!" Poultry Man shouted with much enthusiasm. And with that, Valor was dead. 

“Horray!” Worm Man cheered. 

"Who are you?" Poultry Man asked, dropping Valor’s body to the ground.

"Worm Man," Worm Man said. "No time to talk; is Scar okay?"

Poultry Man nodded. Behind them, they heard the rustles of a bush. It was EX. Evil Xisuma stopped in his tracks. His jaw dropped. "W-Worm Man?!"

"Evil X? I haven't seen you in ages!" Worm Man said.

"What happened to Valor?" EX asked.

"Oh, don't tell me you were WORKING with him?" 

EX backtracked. “I swear it’s not what it looks like!”

“Why would a hero be working with a villain?” Worm Man asked.

Poultry Man raised an eyebrow. “A hero? This guy’s name is literally Evil Xisuma.”

“Yeah, but that’s because he used to be bad! But now he’s good! Right, EX?” Worm Man asked. 

EX and Poultry Man locked eyes for a second. “Yeah…” EX said with uncertainty. 

Poultry Man gazed at the horizon. From behind the mountains, the sky was turning a tint of dark blue. It ought to be about at least 5 AM by now. His second sleep-less night.

EX stepped backwards. “Well, erm, why don’t you look at that!” He continued walking backwards. “I better get going…” EX broke into a full-sprint back into the woods. 

“Hey, Worm Man, can I ask how powerful EX is?” Poultry Man asked. “I’ve never interacted with him before now.”

“He’s not so bad once you get to know him! We used to work together. One time in Season 5, me and him snuck into Xisuma’s room to throw him an 8 month early surprise birthday party! It was super fun and X screamed in delight!” Worm Man said.

“Do you hear yourself? You gotta be taking the mick,” Poultry Man said.

“Well, we just met each other. People have differences and that’s okay!” Worm Man said like a PSA spokesperson. “You and I should probably get some rest. Until we meet again, Poultry Man!” 

And, because Worm Man lacks any ability to fly, he sprinted away trying to look cool. Poultry Man shrugged off the conversation and flew back to the Poultrycave. 

Scar was safe. Valor was dead again. Everyone is safe.

But Poultry Man was wrong.

* * *

He plucked a red mushroom, its roots springing from the crumbling netherrack. Ren sighed as he stared at it. His stomach let out a howl.

Ren took a nibble. This was the price to pay for going through his food supply too quickly. The mushroom itself wasn’t too bad. Ren was an omnivore; he eats golden carrots all day. But still, he’d prefer ANY sort of meat over Nether mushrooms. If things become drastic, he was willing to fight the local herd of Zombie Pigmen for their rotting flesh.

Who was he fooling? Things were already drastic! He had been killing ghasts and drinking their tears as hydration. How long has he been hiding in the Nether? A week? A month? A YEAR? What if Valor never returned and that he was torturing himself for no reason? Thoughts plagued his mind as he scarfed down the rest of the mushroom. 

Ren had dug a little cave in the nether that can be only accessed by removing a specific block of netherrack and crawling through a one-block hole. Inside the cave, he did his best to replicate Tomato Yoshi’s Dragon Dojo. All furniture was constructed out of netherrack.

Instead of worrying about how long he’s been in the Nether. Instead of wondering if Valor is still searching for him. Instead of worrying if Valor was close. Instead of worrying about his crying stomach. Instead of worrying about the other hermits... Tomato Yoshi appeared from inside him, and he meditated, sitting on an uncomfortable pile of netherrack debris. Slowly, Ren's ears’ triangle shape rounded into circles, the fur retracting into his skin.

And when Ren opened his eyes, he was Tomato Yoshi once more. 

Never once has he, or any of the other hermits, questioned how he does it. 

He inhaled the muddy scent of the Nether, and exhaled all his bad energy. 

Until a voice whispered from behind him.

“Found ya.”


	5. NO

The hermits gathered in the shopping district. Absolute hysteria was about to break loose as word about Ren’s abduction spread to hermit to hermit. 

Scar trembled in his shoes. “But I thought Poultry Man killed Valor?”

“He what?” Sherlock asked, pushing through the crowd of hermits to get to Scar. 

“Yeah! He saved me last night from Valor and EX. I saw him kill Valor,” Scar said. 

Sherlock was about to say something when Joe stood on top of a shop overlooking the crowd. “Everyone settle down! Panicking will get us nowhere!” he screamed. “Doc, give me the ransom note.” 

Doc flew on top of the shop and handed Joe the note. “I found it in the Nether Portal tower in Hermitville. It’s like Valor knew I was working there!” 

Joe read it outloud.

“Docm77,  
Get ready to meet your master.  
Lovely weather outside,   
Perfect for a battle.  
If you ever want to see Ren again,   
Dead or alive,  
Go to these coordinates…”

“Obviously, it’s a trap,” Sherlock said. “But it was definitely written by Valor. If it was written by any other hermit, they would’ve used squid’s ink, but Valor used a pencil. There’s also slight heat damage evenly distributed around the paper. He most likely wrote this in the Nether.” 

“Do the coordinates have any significance?” Doc asked. 

“Most likely not. Valor and EX don’t even have communicators, so they can’t see coordinates,” Sherlock said. “That’s all I got; it’s a dead end.”

“But!” Doc interjected. “How would they be able to put a trap at those coordinates if they don’t have access to the coordinates?” 

Sherlock paused. “If they were members of the server, they would show up when you press tab. And only proper members get communicators.”

Doc rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Why would they send us a note in the first place if they were planning on just killing Ren? It makes no sense. So that means…”

“The coordinates must’ve been written by a member. By Rendog!” Sherlock exclaimed. “Elementary, dear Docson!” 

The hermits marveled at the two’s problem-solving. They were getting ready to pack and head on their way to the coordinates when they heard yelling in the distance.

“Hey! Hey! HEEEEYYYY!!” yelled a girl. The hermits turned their heads and saw Ariana running through the shopping district towards the group.

When Ariana got to the crowd, she was out of breath. “Charlie…” Ariana said through pants. “I need to talk to you… in private.” 

Ariana and Grian went behind iTrade, making sure nobody was following them. “What do you need to talk about?” Grian asked, innocently.

Ariana took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant with Mumbo’s child.”


	6. IT'S MUCH BETTER TO FACE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There's a brief vomiting moment.

Grian froze, holding his smile and blank stare for a few seconds.

“Charlie? You there?”

“I’m…” Grian stuttered. “You’re taking the mick, right? Right?!” Ariana had always been a prankster. All members of the Grian clan were.

“I’m not joking,” Ariana said with no hint of sarcasm.

“That’s impossible! How would you know? You’ve been here for only one day!” Grian said.

“Shhh! The others may hear. And besides, one day is only 20 minutes,” Ariana said.

Grian attempted to process this information. Mumbo Jumbo... his business partner…. his best friend was about to father his nibling.

“Hey…” Ariana began. “I suppose it’s nice to have a redstoner in the family?”

“Have you told Mumbo yet?” Grian asked, looking from behind iTrade at the crowd of hermits. Mumbo was chatting with False. They were smiling. Little did Mumbo know...

Ariana frowned. “I didn’t. I don’t know how he’ll react.” Ariana sighed. “I plan to hide it until this Valor stuff blows over. Telling others won’t do any good,” Ariana said. “But at least I can trust you while Sherlock is busy with Valor.”

Grian let out a pained smile. He stared at his sister’s flat belly. _Holy shit_ , he thought. _Somewhere in there is my nibling._

* * *

The plan was simple, but there was always the fear that they had come too late.

Sherlock had never met Valor. Apparently, Valor's side of the family was exiled from gatherings when Sherlock was about 4. The reason Valor had come to Hermitcraft was to keep the family “pure.” So, it was safe to assume Valor is loyal to his clan.

If that’s the case, Valor wouldn’t be hostile towards Sherlock since he wouldn’t have any prejudice.

The coordinates led to a familiar destination; Team STAR’s fortress. AKA weaponized redstone heaven.

Sherlock, along with a couple of other hermits, stood on the opposite side of the moat. On the outside, the fortress had not changed at all.

“Are you really gonna do this without a weapon?” Jevin asked. “Not even a stick?”

“If I carry anything even resembling a weapon, they’ll blast me into smithereens,” Sherlock said. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t scared. The chance of death was as high as the sky, but he couldn’t show it. He and Poultry Man’s wedding was the thing that started all of this. He had to take responsibility.

A single shulker box is what he needed.

After a couple of “good lucks” from the hermits, he began bridging across the guardian-filled moat.

Slowly, the wooden door opened with a loud creak. The hinges were rusted and full of cobwebs, as it hadn’t been used since the Prank War over a year ago. Inside was nothing but a black abyss.

Sherlock took a deep breath, and stepped inside. His footsteps echoed throughout the building (that was more like a cave).

A wave of helplessness flowed through Sherlock. He never actually… “plays” Minecraft. He never builds, collects supplies, or fights mobs. He gets money through his detective work and then uses it to buy essentials. And at this moment, Sherlock realized how little he knows about the game he’s lived in his whole life. A horrible time to realize, as he’s about to come face-to-face with a technical Minecraft player.

“Jevin was right…” Sherlock mumbled. “I should’ve brought a stick.”

Despite how dark it was, there were no sounds of mobs. Except for the nearby sound of an enderman’s vwoop.

Sherlock continued through the labyrinth of stairs. Soon, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. In every entrance was some sort of machine. Once in a while he’d hear the click of a dropper or the shifting of a piston. Were those always there?

He continued walking. The labyrinth seemed endless. Was there a bottom? Had he been going in circles? How much time had passed since he started walking? The smell of damp, dirty air kept him on edge. He swore that once in a while he’d catch a whiff of a cooked porkchop. Or maybe he was truly going insane.

Soon enough, his legs were too wobbly to continue walking. He almost came close to falling off the ledge once. He limped his way up a flight of stairs before finally collapsing onto the cold stone-brick slabs, panting. He should’ve brought food, at least! How foolish he was to not bring food?

Sherlock groaned. His legs burned like hell. Slipping off his shiny oxford shoes, which stunk of sweat, he massaged his feet through his white socks. He was hungry, dehydrated, and his feet were sore. Great.

“Finally got tired?”

Sherlock’s head snapped to where the sound came from, but nobody was there. He attempted to stand up. “Who… Who’s… Who’s there?” Sherlock managed to get out.

The person let out a little chuckle. “For a detective, you sure didn’t detect me following you for… what? 40 minutes? Maybe an hour?”

Invisibility potion. Before Sherlock could get on his own two feet, the person whammed Sherlock on his head, bringing him to the stone ground. Grabbing the tails of Sherlock’s purple scarf, the person kicked Sherlock off the edge.

He gasped for air as he hung with his scarf pressing against his airway. The person cackled. Kicking and gagging, he scratched at the fabric of his scarf, feet dangling like helpless birds. Hearts were depleting at a supersonic speed. He sucked for air once more.

Behind the sound of his own suffocation, Sherlock heard someone yell “Hey!” in the distance.

Sherlock was thrown onto the platform. He quickly unwrapped the scarf from his neck and tossed it aside. On his hands and knees, facing the ground, he let out long rounds of coughs. Occasionally gagging in-between. His head was fuzzy.

“What are you doing?” Valor yelled at an invisible Evil Xisuma.

“I was only doing what you said to do!” EX whined.

The detective’s heart raced. Soon, his breakfast was racing up his throat. Crawling to the edge of the platform, he vomited.

Valor knelt next to his cousin. “What are you doing here?” he asked Sherlock.

“You’re trying to talk to someone who’s throwing up, dumbass,” EX said.

“Shut up,” Valor said. “And you tried to strangle my only good cousin.”

“How was I supposed to know? He looks identical to his brother!”

“Charlie’s taller than you! Sherlock’s short as hell!” Valor argued.

EX rolled his eyes. “All you Grians look the same.”

Sherlock attempted to keep his balance. A single trip could send him tumbling down to bedrock.

“EX, get a glass of water,” Valor commanded.

After each gag, it always took a few seconds for Sherlock’s vomit to reach bedrock with a splat that echoed throughout the walls. After a few minutes of painful gagging, and the shame of having the guy who is planning on _murdering your client_ genuinely comfort you, Sherlock regained his composure.

“Can… Can I get something to eat?” Sherlock mustered out.

“You’re not supposed to eat anything too heavy after being strangled. Take it from personal experience,” Valor said. “Although you can drink clear liquids. Speaking on which, where the hell is Evil Xisuma? I told him to get you water 10 minutes ago…” Valor stood up and started his travel across the labyrinth.

Once Valor was out of eyesight, Sherlock did his best to stand up. His cheeks were warm, face’s color akin to a pig. Folding his scarf, painted with his blood and vomit, and grossly putting it into his back pocket, Sherlock made himself as presentable as possible. He took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

He cautiously made his way through the labyrinth and to Valor and EX.

“Oh cool. You’re better!” Valor said. “Would you like a biscuit?”

“I’m not a parrot,” Sherlock said. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, how are you two doing today?”

Valor and EX exchanged suspicious looks. “Good,” Valor said.

Ex began “Actually I’ve been feeling quite-”

“Nobody cares,” Valor said.

“Well, would you be interested in a Did-You-Die box?”

Valor raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “What’s that?”

“The hermits have making plans on how to defeat you two and get Ren back,” Sherlock began. “They’ve noticed that you, Valor, are very weak without your staff.”

EX stifled a laugh. Valor whacked him.

“I assumed you’d be interested in a shulker box full of God-like tools and armor native to vanilla Minecraft,” Sherlock said, placing a purple shulker box in front of Valor and EX’s feet.

Although hesitant at first, Valor and EX shifted through the box.

“It’s on me,” Sherlock butted in as the two poked their noses at the goods.

After a few minutes, Valor looked up at his cousin. “Thank you… thanks a lot.”

“No problem,” Sherlock lied.

Evil Xisuma took the shulker box and went to place it in an enderchest.

“Do you still want biscuits?” Valor asked.

“Yes, please,” Sherlock said. That wasn’t a lie. The strangling took a lot out of him.

Part 1 of his plan was done. Now onto part 2: gathering info.

Sherlock followed Valor into one of the many rooms. EX followed behind Sherlock, keeping a close eye on him. From EX’s tense body language, Sherlock concluded that EX didn’t trust Sherlock one bit.

The room was renovated into a crude kitchen. There was a crafting table next to a furnace and a few oak planks as a table. Sherlock knelt at the table as Valor placed a plate of biscuits in front of him.

"By the way, are you aware that killing Ren would just end with him respawning?" Sherlock asked as he took a bite of a dry biscuit.

"Evil Xisuma told me that, so we're gonna take him to the void. He's a feisty one. Do you think you can help us carry him later?" Valor asked.

Sherlock shook his head. "I'm not available later. Where is Ren, anyway?"

His cousin opened his mouth to answer, but EX slammed 2 glasses of water on the table, startling the two. “Your water,” he said in a brisk voice.

Valor munched on his stale biscuit. "Can I ask you a question?" Valor asked through a full mouth. Bits of crumbs spilled from the side of his mouth onto the table.

Sherlock, although disgusted by his cousin's poor manners, nodded his head.

"Why did you marry him?" Valor asked.

Sherlock paused, staring into the black eyes of his cousin. "Because… Because he gives unconditionally to me, and I never knew what that looked like until I met him." The words simply slipped out of his mouth, and he regretted them the second they left.

"But he's a half-chicken. Don't we eat that stuff for dinner?" Valor asked.

"Not ever since I've become vegetarian," Sherlock said. It was too late now. Might as well go on with the conversation.

"I just don't get it," Valor said.

"And I don't get why you want to kill Ren so badly, but I'm not complaining, am I?"

"It's because his kind caused my trauma!"

"He’s not even a rat! He's a dog! Can’t you read his username?!" Sherlock argued.

Valor clenched his teeth. "He's a nasty rat trying to pass as a dog! I know it... I'll make them pay for what they did to me!"

"Well news flash, dear cousin! Your trauma isn't an excuse for you to be a dick to people you’ve never met!" Sherlock exclaimed, much louder than he wanted.

"Well what if I wanna be a dick?!"

"Then you're a dick!"

"No I'm not!" Valor yelled, flipping the table. It slammed into the stone wall, shattering the plates and glasses that were on it.

Sherlock sighed, standing his ground. "Alright, you're not a dick," Sherlock lied in a calm tone.

Although Evil Xisuma was AFK in another room, Sherlock had a suspicion he was watching him, somehow…

The two fixed the table. Sherlock and Valor continued chatting about nothing too important.

“I know you’re trying to appear mysterious and all that, but shouldn’t you consider lighting the labyrinth? Mobs would spawn,” Sherlock said.

Valor let out a cackling laugh, clenching his stomach and spurting crumbs from his mouth. Sherlock’s face fell red.

“Don’t you know anything about this game?! The labyrinth is entirely made out of slabs and stairs, with glass covering the bedrock. All the available places for mobs to spawn are lit up!” Valor said through his laughs.

Evil Xisuma, who was in the middle of baking bread, turned around. “Wait… wot?”

For the first time, Sherlock agreed with EX. “Then why did I hear an enderman earlier?”

“That’s impossible…” Valor muttered, grabbing his staff and rushing to the room’s entrance, skimming the darkness for any purple particles.

Valor yelled “Hello?! Anything there?!”

With a vwoop, a young boy in a red turtleneck appeared in front of Valor, purple particles swirling him like snowflakes.

The wizard yelped, stumbling backwards. EX rushed in front of his friend with a knife. “Don’t you dare!” EX threatened the child.

“NPG!” Sherlock called, running to his half-nephew, who stood still with a straight spine and hands behind his back. Sherlock still kept a safe distance away, for all he knew a brawl could commence, and he could end up tumbling toward the bottomless pit of the labyrinth.

“You… You can teleport?!” Valor asked, shakily pointing his charged staff at the child, who only tilted his head of fluffy hair in response.

Sensing an opportunity, Sherlock cheerily replied “You didn’t know that? NPG does it all the time! Along with fire-breathing, venomous spit, superhuman strength, and mild possession!”

“POSSESSION?” Valor squealed.

“Yeah! How else did you think he got Wels to build all of Rusticville in 1 day?”

EX turned to Valor “Sorry mate, you’re on your own.”

[Evil Xisuma left the game]

“How in the name of King Buffo do you defeat him?” Valor asked Sherlock, shaking so hard that he was practically vibrating.

“Nobody knows…” Sherlock replied in a ghostly voice.

The faint sound of clanking metal footsteps came into earshot. Although Sherlock had to squint to see, walking through the labyrinth was Welsknight and Robot Grian. Both metal exteriors reflecting the light of the kitchen room.

“NPG! Get back here!” Wels said, not realizing that Valor was right there.

“Now how’d you two get out as well?!” Valor asked in a penetrating voice.

Robo locked his red, beady eyes with his uncle. “You made the bars out of skin. It was easy to eat,” Robo said.

“Good grief… this fella again?” Wels muttered to Robo.

Clenching his staff so hard that his skin blistered, Valor said “Don’t touch me, kid. I can send you flying to bedrock with one flick. You’ll build rustic houses in Hell.”

Sherlock butted in “Did I also mention NPC Grian can also has instant healing? Along with superspeed, hydrokinesis, terrakinesis, invisibility-”

“I GET THE MESSAGE!” Valor exclaimed.

“He can break bedrock,” Sherlock quickly whispered into Valor’s ear, doing his best to conceal a mischievous smirk.

NPG had not moved an inch. He stood as a statue, for there was no bit of fear inside him.

Wels tsk’d. “Don’t make me come over there and get you myself!” Wels said, stomping his way towards NPG. “I’m gonna count to 3!”

“We’re cornered!” Sherlock exclaimed as he acted scared. His cousin tensed, on the verge of tears. “Can’t you teleport us outside with your wizard magic?”

Valor’s eyes lit up with realization. Just as his staff sparked with the faintest magenta glow, the sound of blocks breaking above echoed through the labyrinth.

From the ceiling came Grian, gliding with his elytra, and Poultry Man, following behind with his wings. Once Sherlock realized what they were doing, he barely had a second to yell “Stop!” before Grian whammed the sole of his shoe into Valor’s cheek. Sherlock could only watch as Valor was propelled off the platform, his wizard robes flapping through the air like a failed parachute. Poultry Man, holding Grian’s diamond sword, lashed at Valor’s stomach midair. Illuminated XP orbs spewed from his stomach like a bean bag getting cut open.

Grian gracefully landed next to Sherlock. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Why in the world are you here?!” Sherlock spat. “My plan was going perfectly!”

“Are you thick? How does stealing a Did-You-Die box from me and giving it to Valor and Evil Xisuma do good?” Grian asked in a scream.

“I was so close to finding out where they hid Ren! Do you guys not trust me?”

“No, we don’t,” Grian replied. “You were gonna get killed.”

“So what if I get killed? I just respawn!”

Valor’s body finally made it to the glass floor with a thud. His body evaporated almost instantly.

Poultry Man, a less graceful flyer, overshot the platform as he attempted to land next to his husband. Sherlock helped him up.

“We were worried about you,” Poultry Man explained to his husband.

Sherlock’s pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry. I should’ve went into detail about my plan to you two. But that still doesn't give you the right to divert my plans without my knowledge."

Grian’s communicator beeped. He took the pocket-sized rectangle out of his trousers and unfolded it into a tablet, big enough for Poultry Man and Sherlock to see.

 **Welsknight** : I trusted you, Sherlock  
**Welsknight** : You were the only family I had left  
**Welsknight** : But in reality it was all an ambusj plan  
**Welsknight** : *ambush  
**Welsknight** : Mark my words, Sherlock.

The three looked to Wels, who held no communicator. “He took my communicator after I wrote that fake ransom note,” Wels explained. “NPG, are you okay?”

NPG had not moved a muscle through the whole thing. He turned to Sherlock. “Why did you lie? I don’t have hydrokinesis.”

Sherlock turned to Wels. “Wels, do you know where they hid Ren?”

“No clue. Evil Xisuma took us and put us in a prison. That’s all I know.”

“Actually,” Robo said. “I picked up a trail of dog fur.”

“How?!” Sherlock asked.

“Ren stinks.”

“Show me the trail.”

The group watched as Sherlock and Robo traveled through the labyrinth, following a trail of dog fur barely visible to the human eye. Grian, Poultry Man, NPG, and Welsknight sat aside.

Wels turned to Grian. “Grian, may I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“How’d you meet NPG?” Wels asked.

“Quite a funny story, actually. A few years ago I was looking to make the perfect rustic house maker. This was done by a series of commands and spells. And thus, NPG was made! Although I made a person who was absolutely obsessed with rustic houses, he still builds them pretty well,” Grian said. “I was informed years later that I actually summoned a demon from another dimension, but that didn’t matter.”

“I guess that explains the teleportation part,” Wels said.

“He seems to like you!” Grian said.

“Is it really true that you store them in your closet?” Wels asked. NPG and Robo have told him lots of things. Things that the two had not shared to any living being for several years.

Grian shrugged. “Yeah. But I live in Hermitcraft now and the house technically belongs to my sister.”

Wels gasped. Grian couldn’t understand why. Besides, Grian’s mind was somewhere else. The mention of his sister got him all stirred up again. She was staying in the sanctuary in his futuristic base. Singing along with the parrots, especially with her new parrot friend Ari.

[Evil Xisuma joined the game]

EX looked to Grian, Wels, Poultry Man, and NPG, and swiftly left the game once more.

“Huh,” Wels muttered under his breath.


	7. THESE KINDS OF THINGS

After a few hours, Sherlock and Robo were able to track down Ren’s possible placement down to a 6 chunk area. The two concluded he was hidden underground, but the length from ground-level to bedrock is a long one.

“Another dead end,” Robo said flatly.

Sherlock combed his fingers through his hair. He yawned, shutting his crusty eyes and tilting his head towards the night sky.

 _Ugh_ , Robo thought. _Humans and their sleeping._

“If you want,” Robo said, snapping Sherlock out of his sleepy trance. “you can go home, sleep, and I can continue searching.”

“No, it’s dangerous for you to go alone,” Sherlock mustered through a yawn. His voice was scratchy and quiet. It had become sore from being strangled, making it hard to talk. “But a nice sleep sounds nice…”

But Robo knew that Sherlock, as the majority of male humans, would not be able to stay awake for the rest of the investigation. He rolled his eyes. "We're close to Rusticville. You can sleep in one of the houses."

Sherlock sleepishly nodded. "Thanks, kid."

The two traveled through the labyrinth of spruce planks and chaos that was Rusticville. The area reeked with inspiration from Grian's build-off house. Robo chose his favorite house, one that he had built by himself without the aid of Wels or NPG. One that rested in the town square with a beautiful view of the fountain. He distinctly remembered Wels saying "listening to the fountain water would be nice for falling asleep." Do humans like listening to repetitive, droning sounds to fall asleep? Why? The human psyche will never fail to amaze him.

Sherlock fell asleep instantly (not without taking off his shoes, of course). But Robo was not finished yet. With only a lantern in hand, he traveled back to the 6 chunk area for solo investigation.

He plopped himself on the grass, staring at the chunks. Ren was in there, somewhere. EX and Valor didn't have enough time on the server to mine for a good pick, so they most likely had to use someone else's mines to hide Ren. Perfect.

In his inventory was a shulker box full of tools that Wels gave the robot. Robo insisted that he didn't need it, but Wels didn't know any other way to gift him. Robo took out the pickaxe, with efficiency 2 and mending, and began mining straight down in the middle of the 6 chunks.

The mines were damp. The only noise being the distant sound of a spider hissing or water rushing. You couldn't tell if it was night or day. A nightmarish land, Robo thought.

Was this how the 'hermits' get their blocks? Robo shut his red beady eyes and pictured of Wels mining in these rectangular boxes for all the cobblestone they used in Rusticville. The idea made him laugh. His robotic chuckle echoed through the endless halls of the mines.

Luckily, the robot could keep time on how long he had been in the mines down to the second. The darkness of it reminded him of the closet. The closet he spent years in, rotting. Disgusting.

He marked every strip he had been in with a spruce plank. Eventually, he got bored of the silence. So, he played his favorite song; "Friday" by Rebecca Black.

The soothing electronic voice of 13 year old Rebecca filled the stone halls. A smile crept onto Robo's face. He couldn't help but sing along.

It reminded him of yesterday when he, Wels, and NPG all sang together after dinner. It was Robo's turn to pick a song, so he picked "Crawling" by Linkin Park. And the 3 had a blast singing along in the living room of their rustic mansion. Wels was an above-average singer, with a voice like butter. The idea of karaoke nights was Robo's. For he loved singing, despite the fact he was self-taught. Once, he tried to propose karaoke nights to Human Grian, precisely 4 years and 2 months ago. But Human Grian turned it down. Human Grian might've forgotten, but Robo has not. Sadly, every time he wanted to insult Grian, he would end up complimenting him as programmed. And so his opinions had to be restrained to the depts of his memory chip. When will his suffering end?

"Friday" by Rebecca Black continued to play on loop. Robo ran through the mines at an inhuman speed. His legs whizzed like the blades of a ceiling fan. His beady red eyes illuminated the path in front of him. Once in a while he'd see a creeper, and he'd run past it, and it'd blow up behind him! Just like him, the green creature loves destruction. It brought a sense of odd peace to him.

Eventually, he stumbled upon an odd opening. The stone looked like it had been placed afterwards... as if it was someone covering up a hole.

Robo, using his strength, punched through the wall. As he expected, it was someone trying to cover up a hole. He walked through the hole into another seemingly endless hall.

He walked cautiously, as to not trip over the rubble. This place was obviously mined with a stone pickaxe, shown by the ragged edges of the cuts. The light beaming out of his eyes was not enough. He still couldn't see the end of the tunnel.

At one point, he saw a box on the ground. Curious, Robo leaned down and picked up the box. It was a woven basket, a style belonging to plains villagers. One of them had stolen this from a nearby village. Robo opened the basket and saw a half-eaten ham and mayonnaise sandwich. It was eaten recently, shown by the lack of ants or silverfish feasting on it.

Robo placed the sandwich where it was and continued walking. After approximately 4 minutes and 42 seconds of walking at a speed of 40 blocks/hour, Robo reached the end.

As he approached it, the faint sound of pistons clicking became clearer. There was the familiar hiss of observers releasing pressure, mixed with the plop of droppers dropping items. There were many sounds at once.

The machine was monstrous. Much bigger than Robo's small body. The redstone wiring crawled around the room like vines. The room stank of the bitter smell of redstone. It opened like a bouquet of hoppers and pistons. And in the heart of the machine was a hermit, sitting on a chair tied up and blindfolded, unable to move. Above his head, which tilted to his right shoulder as if he were dead, was the name "Renthedog."

"Hello," Robot Grian greeted, but Ren did not reply. "Hello," Robo repeated.

Robo approached him. By the dog's uncomfortable warmth, Robo could tell he was alive. Ren's ears twitched at the sound of Robo's metallic footsteps.

"Should I touch this machine?" Robo asked, looking to Ren for a reply. "Twitch your ears twice if yes, once is no."

Ren twitched his ears once.

Robo backed off from the machine, which continued to work. He was surprised Ren still had his hearing after listening to this all day.

"What is this machine doing?" Robo asked, maneuvering his way across the room to get a better look. Of course, Ren was unable to reply. The machine was constructed masterfully. For Robot Grian, obviously a machine himself, could not understand what its purpose was.

Robo looked back to Ren. "Should I remove your blindfold? Twitch your ears," Robo said.

Ren twitched his ears 2 times.

Turning his index finger into a pocket knife, Robo removed Ren's blindfold and muzzle. Have you ever seen a muzzle on a human? Most likely not. It was quite the sight to see.

Ren gasped for air, only to be met with the freezing high-pressure air of the underground. "Where am I?" Ren croaked. He looked to Robot Grian. "Oh, that explains why your voice was so.... robotic."

Robo nodded, his neck making a scratching metal sound. "They've been looking for you," Robo said.

"Who?" Ren asked.

"The hermits of the Hermitcraft server," Robo said.

Ren cracked a smile. "That's good to know. Hey, do you think you can find my communicator in here?"

Ren gestured to a pile of clothes and junk lying in the corner of the cave. "Can you be a dear and get it for me?" Ren asked.

Robo walked to the pile and sifted through the mess. Some of it he recognized, like the same chains Evil Xisuma used to restrain Welsknight when he kidnapped them. And the cage he used to restrain NPG in, which ultimately failed. Robo felt something. He turned over his hand and revealed the magnet EX used to kidnap him had been shattered into pieces. Wiping the remains off, he continued searching.

He stumbled upon something. It was a deck of cards tied together with a rubber band. Robo picked it up.

"Did you find it?" Ren asked.

"Can't you get up and look yourself? I'm not your slave," Robo snapped back.

"I can't get up or the machine will release me into the trap," Ren said. "It's cobwebs that descend me into lava. Mostly annoying, but burning alive is a little painful, y'know?"

"I can't relate," Robo said.

Robo didn't find the communicator, even after searching all around the room. He returned to Ren.

"What do you have in your hand?" Ren asked.

"Cards," Robo said.

Ren's face lit up. "What games do you know?"

"I have plenty of card games in my database. Human Grian used me as his playing buddy when Taurtis was sleeping," Robo said.

"What should we play? I propose we play war," Ren said, recalling the nights he used to play war with Doc.

And so the two began playing. "I may be a bit rusty; I haven't played in years," Robo said as he began shuffling the cards.

"It's fine, dude. It's nice to have someone with me other than those two losers," Ren said, not holding back from his insults. "So... are you like... a computer? Are you programmed to lose? Do you have difficulty levels or something?"

The two played for an hour. Robo won 5 times and Ren, 3.

"My superior programming has led me to this victory," Robo said after winning for the 5th time. 

Eventually, they got bored of playing war and Robo decided to build a flawless card tower. In which Ren named "Castle Spadestone" and created lore around as Robo constructed. That’s one of the few things Robo liked about humans; they had creativity. Robo was programmed to build whatever he was told to build, hence Build Battle. In reality, all he wanted to do was destroy. But players, such as Ren, Wels, and even Human Grian, could build and destroy whatever they wanted. To a degree, he was jealous.

Robo checked his internal clock. It was 5 AM. If he's gone for too long, Wels and NPG may become suspicious. “I have to go," Robo said.

Ren frowned. "Awww..." he murmured.

Robo raised an eyebrow, facing the dog-man thing. "You don't seem very nervous."

"About what?" Ren asked.

"About the fact that Kingdom of Valor Human Grian and Evil Xisuma want to throw you into the void," Robo said.

Ren forced out a chuckle. "I... I think I overheard them talking about that... earlier. But didn't believe I heard them correctly."

"Are you nervous now?"

Ren nodded his head in shame. "Yes." His fists clenched as they rested on the arms of the chair. He didn't want to cry in front of his new friend. "I just want to see sunlight again, man."

"Can I knock down the card tower?" Robo asked.

"Yes," Ren said in a sigh, running his hands through his hair. Robo high-kicked the side of the card tower, the cards falling like leaves on a cold autumn day. Pattering on the stone ground. Robo began picking up the mess.

"Hey man," Ren began. "Robot Grian's your name, right? Can you promise to visit me again soon? It gets lonely. You’re a blast to talk to, man.”

"I promise," Robo said.

The robot re-restrained Ren in his blindfold and muzzle, leaving him where he was when Robo first came into the room. He had gotten used to the clicks and hisses from the strange machine, and an uncomfortable silence followed as he traveled away from the room in the dark hallway.

After a bit of walking, he made it back to Rusticville where he made Wels and NPG eggs and porkchops. NPG likes his porkchops medium-rare. The mornings in Rusticville are always the best, with the wondrous songs of birds filling the air. Splendid.

Robo was in the middle of cutting NPG's porkchop into the shapes of dinosaurs when Wels, in his sleeping clothes, entered from the hallway. He wore pure white robes and cotton night cap with a fuzzy pom-pom at the end. All paired with fluffy pink slippers.

"Ah," Wels said. "I was wonderin' what all that noise was. You've gotten up early, haven't ya?"

Robo nodded, like a liar. "Do you want apple or sweet berry juice?"

"Sweet berry juice," Wels muttered, still half-asleep. He slumbered his way to the polished diorite countertop. The kitchen was made from spruce, like the majority of the house. Thankfully, fire-spread was off.

"What did you and Sherlock find yesterday?" Wels asked, sipping his sweet berry juice.

"We made good progress," Robo said. He didn't want to outright say that he knew where Ren was because Ren was still in a vulnerable position. He'll only tell Sherlock when he's in a safe place. "Tracked him down to 6 chunks. He's underground."

"NPG is planning on seeing Ariana Griande later. He says he misses her," Wels said. "Not much of a fan of her type of pop music, personally. But you should've seen Bdubs the other day. He was basically drooling over her. You should be happy that you're related to such a high-status person, even if not biologically."

"Money and popularity are meaningless," Robo said as he continued frying Wels' porkchop.

Wels nodded. "You have a point."

* * *

Despite everything that was going on in the server at the moment, Grian’s base still stood high and mighty. Towering over the bay, casting the Statue of Hermitry in a shadow of shame. The sun was high. It was the perfect day.

“It’s not rustic,” NPG said as he flew elytra-less next to Wels. “I don’t like it.”

“We can’t change that because the build belongs to Grian,” Wels replied. The three slid into Grian’s base.

Grian was rummaging through his storage system. He jumped at the 3 flying in. He shut the chest he was searching through. "Oh, hello!" he said with a smile. "What brings you here?"

"I heard that Ariana was staying here?" Wels asked.

Grian's face flushed. "Who told you that?" he asked, his body freezing and eyes widening. All the worst ideas flooded his mind.

"NPC," Wels replied.

Grian eyed NPG, who was busy crawling into one of Grian’s chests. Robo walked over and locked the chest on his step-brother. NPG proceeded to scream, pounding at the wooden sides of the chest, but Robo pretended not to hear. Wels went over to help.

"She's upstairs," Grian answered, keeping a close eye on Wels.

The 4 went upstairs into Grian's aviary. Ariana was sitting on a wool couch, snacking on beetroot stew with her bird friend, Ari. Hearing the rockets, she immediately expected it to be Grian. "Hey Char-"

NPG and Robo caught Ariana's eyes. "Oh my goodness, them again."

"Hello!" NPG chirped with a big smile. Ariana faked a smile back.

Wels smiled. "They've been missing you."

"That's a lie," Robo said. Despite the fact he was programmed to not insult Human Grian, he could insult his biological sister all he wanted.

Ariana extended her arms for NPG. The small demon went over to hug his step-aunt. Grian bit his lip, sweating, keeping his eyes on Ariana's stomach, which had gotten a significant bump in the past 24 hours. Minecraft time was weird. He prayed Wels wouldn't notice her stomach practically pressing against her red sweater. It was rude to comment on a multi-millionaire dollar celebrity's body, right?

The multi-millionaire dollar celebrity in question sighed into NPG's shoulder. "Charlie, can you and Welsknight go downstairs? I want to speak to Robo and NPG one-on-two for a bit."

Grian knew exactly what she was doing. He led Welsknight downstairs, leaving the 3 alone.

Ariana sat upright on the couch, facing the two non-humans. "Okay, boys. I need to tell you something..." Ariana began. "You two know what pregnancy is, right?"

Robo stepped in. "The period from conception to birth. After the egg is fertilized by a sperm and then implanted-"

"NPG? Do you know?" Ariana asked, rudely cutting off Robo. Robo huffed.

NPG nodded in response.

Ariana sighed, staring at her stomach. "Okay, so let's just get it out of the way. I'm pregnant, and the father is Mumbo Jumbo, a player from this server."

"Congratulations?" Robo asked, not fancying the idea of more humans populating the Earth. The world was already over-populated. Why did they need more?

NPG's eyes lit up. He squealed in response, running to hug Ariana. His smile was contagious (with the exception of Robo, of course). Ariana hugged her nephew even harder than before.

Downstairs, Grian heard NPG's squeal of happiness. He gazed to the ceiling, smiling at how well it went. Wels stood there, sipping his morning coffee, not batting an eye.

The world was in shambles, but if a multi-millionaire pop star's pregnancy could make a demon spawned from the depths of hell so happy, then so be it. That’s how it is.

* * *

It was the dead of night, and Robo had snuck out with a basket of warm, day-old Mountain Dew and a freshly cooked steak in a picnic basket. He was walking to meet Ren again. In the distance was the 6 grassy chunks.

Suddenly, he couldn't move. No matter, since malfunctions happen occasionally, thanks in part to Grian's faulty engineering.

But this wasn't the case. Robo couldn't think. Dizzy, floating, watching himself from afar. He dropped the basket but didn't mean to. Finally, darkness.

Ren never got his Mountain Dew.


	8. WITH A SENSE OF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the break guys we sorta had an apocalypse happen. kinda unepic if you ask me :/

3 days passed without a sign of Robo. 

Soon, Sherlock lost track of Valor and EX. Despite both the combined efforts of Sherlock and Doc, no one had connected the dots between Robo’s disappearance and Ren’s kidnapping. Even with Ren's cryptic message of his location (which the majority of hermits believed was false, anyway).

“Dangnabbit!” Sherlock had exclaimed, throwing his scarf onto the grass in frustration. He turned to his partner, Doctor Docson. “I didn’t even want to become a detective- I wanted to be an animator!”

On the third day, with the help of Ren's (albeit needlessly coded) message, the two stumbled upon the remains of the contraption Ren had been restrained to. Ren was no longer there. It had been abandoned. 

“This machinary…” Sherlock brushed his thumb across the dried slime of a piston. “...so complex…”

“Actually it’s a-,” Doc said.

“Placed in such a masterful way…”

“It’s literally a zero-tick sugarcane farm.”

“How will we ever crack this?!”

“Sherlock!” Doc Docson yelled. “This machine is actually 3 zero-tick farms stitched together. The lever to start them is over there. And the chests to hold the gains are right here.”

Doc opened a double-chest connected to the sugarcane farm. It was empty, but the crumbs of sugarcane riddled the bottom of the box. The chests connecting to the cactus and chorus fruit farm were also empty. 

From there, they met a dead end. 

Meanwhile, Sherlock has yet to win back the trust of his brother. They hadn’t spoken in days. 

Understandably, Wels and NPG were worried about Robo’s disappearance. They waited, waited, and waited. Eventually, they made missing posters. But to no avail. It was as if the robot had disappeared off the face of the server. 

Wels didn't sleep a wink. Staying up late, he kept thinking of the worst. Wondering what in the world happened to Robo. Just a few nights ago they were playing Jeopardy and singing karaoke together. Could... Robo had run away?

No way. That's impossible. Laying in his bed, Wels recalled something Robo had told him after their game of Jeopardy. 

“Welsknight, you’re my favorite hermit,” Robo had said. 

“Why thank you!” Wels, said, slightly flustered. “May I ask why?”

“You gave me and NPG beds instead of closets to charge in. You don’t force us to build stuff for you. You let us build what we want,” Robo said. He put his arm out, gesturing for Wels to put his arm out as well. “And you wear metal, just like me.” 

“I like Wels because he likes rustic houses!” NPG chirped.

Wels chuckled. “You remind me of when I was younger.”

“I’m older than you,” NPG said.

* * *

Mumbo, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, wasn’t as caught up in the pop music outside of the server. He could live perfectly fine with his mellohi. And so, he had never heard of Ariana Griande before now. In contrast to those like Jevin and Bdubs, who hadn’t stopped talking about the popstar since she came. And when Mumbo was caught in those conversations, he would remain quiet, wondering what would happen if they knew what went down that night. 

So out of curiosity, he decided to look up “Ariana Griande” and read through her wikipedia. The picture to the side was of Ariana in her signature pink, glittery dress, sourced from the Grammys.

The Grammys? Blimey, Mumbo knew Ariana was popular but not that popular! Immediately, he went to YouTube and searched for Ariana’s Grammys performance. The performance was titled “‘I’m aGrian With You / Brilliant / Thank u, vex’’ (Live from the GRAMMYS).” Mumbo clicked on it. 

Immediately, his ears were blasted with the shouts of a cheering audience. The camera panned in on the stage, which was lit up with dark pink lights. In the center was the silhouette of a slim woman standing on a quartz podium, striking a provocative pose. Behind her, on wider, lower podiums was Zeddaph, the remixer of the song, and Jessassin J, the featured singer.

The spotlight shined on Ariana and she began singing, casting the two other podiums into her shadow. A sea of dancers with identical clothing danced as one at the bottom. 

The song “I’m aGrian With You” started as a power ballad before the trap beats settled in. Ariana’s podium sunk gracefully and she stepped off and strutted to the next set. Dancers trailed behind her for a quick mobile costume change, placing an oversized, red, fluffy jacket on her shoulders. In the blink of an eye, her pink dress was ripped off, revealing a leather mini-skirt. 

Already at the next set, which was a rich master bedroom, Jess J began rapping her section of the song. Her voice boomed through the theatre. The audience went wild. Her and Ariana stood beside each other like best friends, singing simultaneously with big smiles on their faces. 

Ariana let out a majestic riff. Mumbo sat there, like a spoon, feeling more and more impressed as each second passed. 

“I’m aGrian With You” ended with a smooth transition to “Brilliant.” Ariana passed through the bedroom set into the set mimicking a city square, neon signs and all. On the rotating stage was rMCrafted, lead singer of a popular South Korean boy group. The rest of the group bounced amongst the stage, hyping up RM as he began rapping his verse. Each of them were dressed with stylish street clothes. 

Fog machines outlined an opening in the middle of the stage. The boys, along with Ariana, squatted at the edges of the stage. The crowd cheered as the instrumental slowed and the lights dimmed.

From the smoke came Wels Khalifa, walking like he owned the place. He wore a shiny suit that reminded Mumbo of a Chipotle burrito. He made his way down the thrust stage with Ariana by his side. 

Fireworks blared in the background. Words flew by too fast to keep track. 

Mambo stood shocked. Flabbergasted, one could say. The performance ended with all singers standing onstage side-by-side. Ariana and Wels Khalifa shared a kiss. 

“Mumbo!” Grian yelled. Mumbo jumped and rushed to the door.

The builder was holding a small pink pastry box. Grian tapped his foot. “I’ve been standing here, knocking, for 5 whole minutes,” Grian said, irritated.

“Sorry…” Mumbo said.

Grian sighed. “Mumbo, we need to talk.” 

Grian welcomed himself into the room. He knew that there was no point wasting time. Mumbo’s face remained innocently confused. Grian plopped himself on Mumbo’s couch, still holding the box. He gestured for Mumbo to sit beside him.

Mumbo sat beside him. Grian shoved the box into Mumbo’s chest. “Open this,” Grian said. 

Mumbo opened the box. Inside were 3 cupcakes; vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. Grian could tell when Mumbo finished reading what they said, indicated by all the color draining from his face.

“Congratulations,” Grian said flatly. “Ari told me to bake them.” 

The cupcakes read “Surprise!”, “You’re going to be a dad!”, with a picture of a baby bottle on the third cupcake. 

Mumbo’s face was tinted red. He fell silent, with his eyes glued onto the innocent pastries. 

“I’m not joking,” Grian said. Mumbo could tell. If this was another prank, Grian would be laughing his arse off at this point, or at least cracking! But Grian’s face remained apathetic, almost bored. Mumbo’s cheeks were hot with shame. Was Grian mad at him for hooking up with his sister? Are these cupcakes actually rigged to TNT? 

“Oh… err… well, then…” Mumbo began. His palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy. Grian noticed the bullets of sweat falling from his friend’s forehead. 

“I’m not mad, just surprised,” Grian said. 

“Why didn’t Ariana Griande tell me herself?” Mumbo asked.

“Ari didn’t want you to be intimidated. Nobody other than me, you, and her knows. I promise,” Grian reassured. “She’s planning on keeping the baby.”

“She is?!” Mumbo exclaimed. “Oh my word…”

Grian pressed his lips into a straight line. He was trying his best to keep his composure, but Mumbo’s response, although expected, was the opposite of what the builder wanted.

“Mumbo…” Grian began, but he couldn’t find the words. How the heck was he going to say this? He didn’t want to scare his friend. His head and heart were at battle. Mumbo looked to Grian with innocent eyes, and Grian couldn't help but feel sorry for him. The way Mumbo's hands were shaking. "Mumbo, do you think you'll be able to raise your kid?"

Mumbo was taken aback. "What?" he asked. 

Grian sighed. "Even if you'll only visit them on weekends...?" Grian proposed. 

Mumbo fell silent. What was Grian thinking? Of course he wouldn't able to raise a kid! He wasn't ready! He can't give up Hermitcraft after so many years. He can't.

Grian could read Mumbo's mind off facial expressions alone. Grian gritted his teeth, but he understood the world wouldn't go his way. No matter how much begging, his niece/nephew wouldn't have their biological dad. Unless Grian was to sever the friendship he and Mumbo had to force him to raise a kid he didn't even want. It wasn't fair for Mumbo. 

His heart was slowly sinking into his stomach. There was a familiar feeling. The same feeling all those years ago, on that darn fishing trip. It was a stormy day, and he was only 6 years old. It was too foggy to see his dad fall overboard. 

Grian slapped his hand over his mouth, a habit he has when he's about to cry. Mumbo looked to him and asked, "What's wrong?" but Grian didn't answer. Mumbo attempted to put his hand on Grian’s shoulder but Grian smacked him away. Mumbo wouldn’t understand. 

“...I… I just want Ariana’s child to grow up with a father,” Grian said. He stared at the ground. “Because I didn’t get to.” 

Mumbo silently mouthed an “oh.” He sat back in a panic. He wasn’t sure how to accompany someone grieving. The worst thing he had lost was his potted cactus named Monroe when he was 15. He felt guilty for making Grian cry. Actually, has he EVER seen Grian cry? This was the first time, and it was caused by him! How shitty is that? 

“I want to talk to Ariana,” Mumbo finally said.

Grian huffed. “Finally…” he said with a little grin.

* * *

Ariana was laying on the couch. She hadn't gone out of the aviary for possibly a week. And although she loves Grian's birds very much, things were beginning to get boring. Her red sweater hadn't been washed in a week. 

One of the things she definitely took for granted was singing. Music was her lifeline, but her pregnancy made every high note sound like a mouse’s squeak. 

She thought back to fond memories of when she was able to sing. The first thing that came to mind was her earliest gig; being an extra in a music video for the rock band Ethoescence when she was 18 years old. Yes, technically she didn’t sing in that gig, but it was still a blast to be a part of. 

Through the blue stained glass, she saw a familiar vehicle conceptualize in thin air. A limo, defying the laws of physics and floating in the air, a few feet from Grian's base. 

In the blink of an eye, 3 people appeared in front of her. She knew their faces all too well.

Standing to the right was Wels Khalifa, a famous rapper and Ariana's ex-husband. They had met at the backstage of Minecraft Coalchella. This time, he wore a designer leather jacket and jet-black baggy jeans, paired with neon tennis shoes. He shooed Grian's parrots away like they were flies. 

Standing to the left was Jessassin J. Ariana had collaborated with her a few times. The two share a manager. This time, Jess was wearing a tight black and white crop top, a gray wrap skirt that went down to her knees, and black rubber shoes. 

And in the middle was Ariana's manager. Standing tall and brooding, in his signature black tuxedo and blue and black striped tie. In his mouth was a cigar. A cloud of smoke obscured his face. He was always smoking a cigar, to the point where Ariana wondered how he was still alive at this point. 

Instinctively, Ariana covered her mouth. Usually, she would do it whenever she was near her manager for her own health, but she was breathing for two, now. 

"Hello, my little starlight," the manager said in a plummy voice, taking another puff of his cigar. "What have you been doing?"

Ariana sat hunched over, doing her best to obscure her baby bump. "Why'd you come unannounced? I thought we discussed my extended vacation over the phone." 

Wels Khalifa let out a wheezy laugh. "Dodging the question, I see!" he teased. "I suppose that's what we should expect from a woman who sleeps with every multi-million subscribed youtuber she sees."

Ariana's anger morphed into fear. Her eyes widened. "How did you..." 

"I know all, Ariana," the manager said, approaching the woman. He plopped himself next to her on the couch and reached to rub her stomach. Ariana held her breath, as to not inhale any smoke. "You're pregnant. And according to minecraft time, you're in your 2nd trimester."

Ariana slapped her manager's hand away. "So?" she snapped.

"Ariana, no," Jess whispered behind the manager. Ariana knew Jess said it with good intentions, but it only made her angrier. 

The manager stood up, bringing his cloud of smoke with him. "In the fine print of your contract, it states that if any nonconsensual body modifications that could possibly harm your public image were to be fulfilled, your contract would be terminated." 

Jess and Wels gasped. The parrots appeared to be staring at her from the branches, scared for her as well. Ariana stared at her feet, biting her lip and frantically thinking. 

"Think, Ariana," the manager commanded. "I am your manager, publicist, and agent rolled into one. I made you who you are today. And do you really want to throw that all away for a child that you didn't even want?"

That was a lie. Ariana wanted to keep the baby, but she kept her mouth shut. "What do you want me to do?" Ariana asked. 

"I need you to use that brain of yours for once. Your tour is coming up in 2 months. You have the money for an abortion. Think, Ariana," the manager said, taking a puff from his cigarette. 

"Can you not smoke around me?" Ariana asked.

The manager laughed. "No," he said. 

Wels had been scrolling on his iPhone for the entirety of the conversation. "Mumbo Jumbo, huh?" Wels mumbled to himself, but making sure it was just loud enough for Ariana to hear. He skimmed through articles about the hermit. "23 years old? Damn, the kid had his whole life ahead of him." 

Jess butted in. “At least he has good clothing choices.”

“Shut up woman,” Wels said. 

“I’ll give you a day to make your decision,” the manager said. “Think, Ms. Griande.”

“You have a very punchable face,” Ariana muttered.

“What did you say?” 

“Nothing.”

The manager huffed. He turned around, along with Wels Khalifa, and logged off. But Jessassin J was still there.

“Thank the heavens those two are gone,” Jess said, sitting next to Ariana. They shared a laugh. 

Jessassin J and Ariana had collaborated a few times, but only one of those songs made it to the top 50. But with that one song, the two performed at hundreds of shows, including the BRIT Awards, in front of thousands, possibly millions, of loving fans. As Ariana stared into the ocean-blue eyes of her peer, her mind was put at ease. 

Jess’ naïve innocence reminded Ariana of when she was younger. Like the time Ariana started a band called “Grian Day” with a couple of friends in high school. Despite its name, Grian and Sherlock were not a part of it, as Grian was studying abroad in Japan and Sherlock was studying in a boarding school in London. Back in the day when she thought that once she got into the music industry, it would be smooth sailing from there. Grian Day was picked up and mildly successful, but Ariana went on to pursue a solo career. And here she was today. 

“They won’t notice I’m gone until 30 minutes into their ride. How have you been?” Jess asked.

Ariana hunched over, eyes gazing to the ground. “Not well. The leg cramps are already bad enough but now I have to deal with Mr. Smoke-face? Jeez.” 

“Do you know the sex of your baby?” Jess asked. 

“I don’t. The technology in this server isn’t advanced enough for that,” Ariana said in a sigh.

Jess frowned, as she had no way of helping her friend. 

After a few minutes, Jess waved goodbye, and then disappeared out of existence. Ariana sighed. She looked out the window; it was getting dark. It was also pouring. 

Ariana lied on the couch, intending on falling asleep peacefully. Until she saw something behind the trees of the aviary.

At first, she thought it was a bird. But the way it moved, the way it bounced around. Its blocky look. It wasn't a bird, it was a person. Ariana stood up, watching the figure. Perhaps late-night delusions had gotten to her? The blocky figure was a dark red, with seemingly no body. A reverse headless horseman. 

"Hello?" Ariana announced. The block stopped to stare at her, and Ariana's blood ran cold. "H... Hello? Who are you?" 

She got no response. Defying her body's strength, she stood up and staggered her way towards the red floating head, with pain shooting up her leg in every step. When she finally got to the tree, there was no figure, but only a sea pickle on the grass. 

It was the salmon ghost Sherlock had mentioned! Before Ren's disappearance, Sherlock had been focusing his detective work on finding out the identity of a thing called the "Salmon Ghost" that goes around leaving sea pickles in random places. A wave of relief washed over Ariana. Sherlock hadn't reported the Salmon Ghost doing any harm. 

There was a rustle to the right and Ariana snapped her neck in the direction. There was the red, fishy head of the Salmon Ghost again.

"What do you want from me?" Ariana almost tripped over her own feet trying to lunge at the figure. The figure continued to run around the small aviary. It kept running, but kept stopping to look back at Ariana. As if it wanted Ariana to follow it.

Ariana followed the figure, keeping a safe distance away from it. She followed it down a bubble elevator and into the lower level of Grian's base. 

Eventually, she followed it to the outer rings of the base. It was raining. But Ariana didn't care about her sweater getting soaked, she had to find out who this was. 

The Salmon Ghost stopped. It stared off into the vast ocean, not minding the rain hitting its head, with a nostalgic look to its posture. Ariana finally caught up, panting and her feet burning. She stared at the back head of the Salmon Ghost, waiting for it to do something. 

"Hello?" Ariana finally asked.

"Hello," The Salmon Ghost replied. 

Ariana's eyes widened. "You... You can talk." 

"That's right," The Salmon Ghost said, not taking its eyes off the crashing waves of the ocean. 

"What are you doing here?" Ariana asked. 

"You're asking the wrong questions," The Salmon Ghost replied.

Ariana paused to think for a second. "Who are you?" she asked.

The Salmon Ghost chuckled. "That's the right one. Have you missed me, Ari?"

And in that second, all of Ariana's body froze. Her jaw dropped. "No..." she muttered in disbelief.

The Salmon Ghost turned to face her. "Ari, I am your father."

Ariana was taken aback. "What's his name, then?" Ariana snapped.

The Salmon Ghost rolled his fishy eyes. "Octavius Grian III. Born February 2nd, and drowned August 18th." 

"Why have you been haunting Hermitcraft for the past months?" Ariana mustered out in almost a plead. Lighting cracked, outlining the lanky build of her father for only a split second. 

"Your brothers needed guidance in a new server," her father said in a whispy voice.

"And how does putting pickles in random places count as 'guidance'?" Ariana asked, raising an eyebrow.

The red salmon head turned to face her. "I like sea pickles." 

At least he kept up the Grian family tradition of being practically useless. 

Ariana didn't question it. Her heart was heavy and she shivered in the cold wind. Her father once held the "Grian" name as well since he was the oldest male out of his siblings. He was a big fan of the Sherlock Holmes books, and he drowned on a fishing trip when Sherlock was still in the womb. That was about the extent of the knowledge Ariana had about her father. 

"Why did you come to me?" Ariana asked in a low voice. 

"You obviously need help, champ," her father said. "Just tell me what's on your mind."

Ariana's eyes glazed to her bump. Her dress clung onto her belly, being soaked from the rain. Her own body mocked her. "I... I want to keep the baby. But I want them to grow up with a father..."

“You and your brother think the same,” The Salmon Ghost said. He paused and put his translucent hands out, as if he were feeling the air. “But Sherlock doesn’t even know you’re pregnant. Why?” 

“We figured he was too busy with Ren’s disappearance,” Ariana said. 

“Do you not trust him?” 

Ariana shrugged. “It’s been complicated.” She thought back to what Grian had told her when Sherlock went on a solo mission, stealing a Did-you-die box in the process. Grian was fuming, which was very out of character for him. In his eyes, he had been betrayed by his own blood.

The crude fish lips of the Salmon Ghost morphed into a frown. 

Ariana thought for a second. "Are you proud of us?" 

Her father let out a chuckle. "Of course! Why wouldn't I? You're a world-renowned A-list singer, Sherlock is a freaking detective, and Charlie's a multi-million subscribed youtuber!" 

"Those are materialistic things. I'm talking about in general…”

The Salmon Ghost paused for a minute. The rain kept pouring, seemingly harder than before. "I would've preferred if my grandchildren were humans and not a robot and demon, but I guess that's why I have you?" 

Ariana couldn't help but crack a smile. 

The Salmon Ghost’s felt the air again. “Speaking of that robot, it’s not doing so well, eh?” 

“It plans to overrun humanity so I assume no,” Ariana said. 

“No, that’s standard robot behavior. There’s something else wrong with it,” the Salmon Ghost said. “I could look into it but personally I don’t give a horse's arse what happens to it. You’re much more important.” The Salmon Ghost placed a tender hand on Ariana’s head. It was shockingly cold and on par with a wet slab of meat. Despite the uncomfortableness, she cherished the moment. 

“The technology on this server doesn’t seem very caught up…” the Salmon Ghost said.

“Yeah, the hermits play mainly vanilla. I have no idea how they live like this,” Ariana said. 

“How about I take you to get an ultrasound? I’ll make sure your manager doesn’t know.” 

“Really?!” Ariana exclaimed happily. She stood up. “What if that admin bloke… um, what’s his name? The guy cosplaying Doomguy but isn’t buff enough?” 

“Xisumavoid?”

“Yeah, him! What if he doesn’t let us back in?” 

“I’ll make him let us back in.”

Despite how ominous that line was, Ariana didn’t question it. The Salmon Ghost opened a portal from thin air. She looked behind her at the Hermitcraft server, then jumped in.


End file.
